And Now We're Better
by sheproclaimeditrandomly
Summary: Just some RonHermione Christmas cuteness...“Not to mention the camera,” said the twin on the right that had a fifty percent chance of being George, smirking.


**Disclaimer: NO! (I love that word.)**

**AN: And of course I think of this after I post my other mistletoe story…

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Hermione felt warmth spread through her whole body, she was sure she'd never stop smiling after this. As they pulled away she saw…what was that? Fireworks? She'd always heard about that but kind of think happening but…wait…something was fishy here…that was the wrong sort of noise…

"Yes! The trick mistletoe works!" came the joyous voice of one twin or the other, she was too dazed to figure out which.

"Trick mistletoe?" Ron repeated dumbly.

"Yes!" said the-twin-on-the-left-that-had-a-fifty-percent-chance-of-being-Fred, cackling. "You hang it somewhere people don't normally go, so the couple you somehow persuade into the spot thinks they're safe, but as soon as they're lips touch the alarm goes off!"

"Not to mention the camera," said the-twin-on-the-right-that-had-a-fifty-percent-chance-of-being-George, smirking.

"Of course, we'll have to do more tests to see if the camera is fast enough," said thing 1 (this title took less time for her to think.)

"Why's that?" Hermione said, trying to stop herself from blushing (she did this by imagining that she'd just kissed the idiot in front of her instead of Ron, hoping to scare herself pale.)

"Well," said thing 2. "Not all couples are going to get so caught up in each other that they don't notice an alarm going off above them and immediately break apart."

She felt herself going very red again.

"Now, beat it you two," said thing 1 with his customary tact. "Harry and Ginny will be up any minute."

Ron glared at them but left (probably frightened that if he stayed he might see his sister and best friend kiss, an activity he tried his best to avoid) and Hermione hurried after him.

Somehow they ended up walking beside each other in the snow in silence. She wasn't sure how, she'd been too wrapped up with her thoughts. What did this mean? They couldn't get around this one. They'd have to face their feelings, now…And, as if reading her thoughts, Ron suddenly stopped.

"Look," he said, then seemed to deflate. "I…er…back there…"

He made a strange gesture that reminded her of a figure eight and before she knew what she was saying she'd blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "Do you want to go ice skating?"

"Er…what?" Ron said.

"Nothing, never mind, I'm being silly," she said, mortified.

"If you really want to—"

"We don't have to, I was just—"

"I want to," he said.

"What?" she said.

"That is…it might be nice to, er, skate…with you…" he said, not looking at her.

"Er, yeah…yeah, okay, come on," she said.

And before they knew it they were gliding across the ice…sort of. Ron was doing pretty well, but, Hermione, who had done this in quite a few years and was just remember that she hadn't really been all that good at it then, was having a bit of trouble. She was about to fall when Ron grabbed her hands.

"I'm, er, not very good at this," she said sheepishly.

"Yeah, I kind of noticed," he said, grinning.

She glared at him and tried back slap him but this sudden motion threw her off balance and she fell into his chest instead. Blushing she lifted her face to find it inches from his. Wondering how his eyes could be so blue she almost didn't notice him leaning closer until those eyes closed and his lips touched hers. It, fittingly enough, reminded her of a snowflake landing in her hair. So light and soft she almost didn't feel it, but then it began to melt into something different, seeping into her, giving her the chills; bringing the rose out in her cheeks and making her smile. Of course, with Ron kissing her her thoughts weren't nearly as clear as all that, but the feeling was the same. He pulled away slowly.

"Er…kind-of nice with out the alarm, isn't it?" he said, blushing.

"It was nice even with the alarm," she said, then immediately felt the heat rise in her cheeks.

"Yeah," he said.

"So…does this mean…?" she trailed off, unsure.

"What do you want it to mean?" he said, sounding just as unsure.

"I don't know," she said, embarrassment causing her defenses to kick in, "You're the one who kissed me!"

"You're the one who fell all over me!" he said.

She blushed, "That was an accident!"

"And so was that kiss!" he said, sounding frustrated.

"So…it was just an accident?" she said in a much quieter voice.

"Well…kind-of, yeah…" he said.

She was quiet for a moment before pushing herself away from him. Hard.

"Hermione—"

"Don't, Ron," she said, and attempted to skate away.

And fell, of course.

After hesitating briefly he skated over and tried to help her up, but, in her embarrassment, she was trying to get up without his help, which caused her to just keep falling back to the ice, where he would try to help her up from again, and she slap his arms away and start to right herself, only to lose balance again…until he grabbed and smashed his lips to hers. The force was staggering, as was the sensation this very different kiss caused, but she wasn't complaining...

"There you go, Hermione Granger, _that_ was _not_ an accident!" he said, breathing heavily.

Then his mind seemed to catch up with him and he faltered, but stared into her eyes resolutely.

"Then what was it?" she asked boldly.

He looked at her for a moment, "What I've wanted to do ever since fourth year, maybe before, but I was too much of an idiot to realize it."

"I've wanted you to do that for much longer," she said.

"Oh," he said. "Good."

"Good."

"So…we're good?"

"We're good."

They stared at each other another moment.

"I love you," Ron blurted.

"And now we're better."

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**AN: Sorry for any obvious mistakes but I didn't have much time for editing (it is Christmas, after all.) This had no plan what so ever, it just sparked from the trick mistletoe idea, and went on from there. I did whatever came to mind, hurrying to finish it in the few moments I had, so I won't be surprised if I read it tomorrow and think it's absolute garbage. It's Christmas, review. And for when it's no longer Christmas: It's Tuesday and/or Wednesday and/or a day and/or a night and/or twilight, so, what the hey? Review, I say!**


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